Prologue: Just a Kid from a Vault
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Disclaimer: Fallout is owned by Bethesda
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A good friend of mine once told me that war never changes. I wouldn't know myself, I'm just a Vault kid from good ol' Vault 101. Until I entered the Capital Wasteland, the only fights I had were fist fights with Butch and his Tunnel Snakes or arguments with Harley, my sister. My twin sister in fact.
My name is Jack Flint, and for the first 19 or so years of my life, I lived in vault 101 with Harley and our father, James. Our mother died in child birth, leaving our father alone to care for a newborn pair of twins. He would never say it outright, but the strain of being a single parent for two rambunctious children wore on him. I caught on to this early, and did my best to become self-sufficient.
The differences between me and my sister were mostly in personality. Physically the only true difference was our genders. We both stood at average height, I was only an inch taller, her hair was a shade or two closer to bright red than mine was, and we both had dark blue-grey eyes. Harley was a bubbly and outgoing individual, smart enough to be placed in the clinic with father. She helped with both sides of his job, as a doctor and a scientist, learning everything he had to teacher her.
I, on the other hand, was part of Vault Security. When I look back to my life in Vault 101, I remember being the quite guy in the back of the room, always watching, observing everyone. I always paid particular attention to those around my sister, always on alert to potential threats. Most people avoided me if they could. I was short tempered and constantly wore a scowl that frightened everyone that did not know my reason for being this way.
Only Dad, Harley, and our friend Amata knew the truth, or for the girls, most of the truth. I was fourteen, wandering in the storage areas of the Vault trying to reign in my anger after breaking Wally's nose for claiming that my sister was his girl. Most of the storage areas were for food or other things that belonged to residents that had passed away, but one of the areas had two storage crates positioned in an odd way, I had to look.
I managed to squeeze my way between the two crates and found a small little area in the corner of the room. All it contained was a single worn leather bag with a rifle leaning against the corner. Despite the worn, rugged looks that the two items bore, I could tell that they were newer than anything else in the vault. The dust covering the two items wasn't nearly as thick as the crates, and seeing as this was one of the rooms that was the deepest in the vault, it was odd that something so new was stored back here.
Leaving the rifle alone, I carefully opened the backpack and found several articles of clothing, what looked like several pieces of armored leather. There was a knife and a handgun carefully wrapped in the clothing, as well as a few other little knickknacks as well. Making sure to leave everything as close to how I found it as possible, I pulled out the last item that was in the bottom of the backpack. It was a leather bound journal.
I knew I shouldn't have opened it, that I shouldn't have pried. But all I wanted was to find out who the person who owned these things were. I barely got through three pages before I realized who it was. It was Dad.
I didn't find out by reading who it was, I found out because the door slid open and someone moved one of the crates out of their way. When I saw Dad staring at me with a resigned look on his face, I immediately knew the truth. My father was not born in the vault, he had found a way in from the outside. At that moment I realized my father was the coolest guy in the vault.
He took me aside that day after resetting the sensors on the door that had alerted him to my snooping, and told me everything. From living his life as a wandering doctor, meeting Mom, his foray in to science, and his work on making Mom's dream come true. He told me of what happened when we were born, how he and a friend struggled to get us into the Vault, how the only reason we had been let in was because the vault needed a doctor.
Amata and Harley never learned that we weren't from the Vault. That really didn't matter at the time either. For the next five years, I slowly gathered supplies, using my status as Vault Security to stash them in a small alcove near the large door that separated us from the outside. Dad's bag and rifle were the first things moved up there after I tinkered with the guns, making sure they still worked. Next was a bag of supplies for me, and then a bag for Harley. I knew Dad was planning to leave, I was planning to go with him. The thing is that if I left, Harley would follow no matter what Dad or I wanted. He was already upset that I was planning on going with him.
I never got the chance. Something happened that caused Dad to flee the Vault without letting me know. The Overseer was furious, Harley was terrified, and I was determined. I had to get us out of there, and I had to find Dad. I would not fail.
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Author's Note: This one is not to be blamed on the plot bunnies, I typed this years ago and just found it on an old flash drive. Let me know what you think.